Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Grenada and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Connie Case to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lizzy Mercier Descloux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Camouflage,
Gang Green,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Skatalites,
kango's stein massive,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mr. Review,
Bang On A Can,
Severed Heads,
Gong,
Angry Samoans,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Pretty Things,
Archie Shepp,
The Knickerbockers,
Hardrive,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Dave Clark Five,
DNA,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Eden Ahbez,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Faraquet,
E-Dancer,
The Martian,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Slackers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rakim,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Interpol,
Liliput,
Derrick May,
Rufus Thomas,
The Cosmic Jokers,
DJ Sneak,
The Gladiators,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pussy Galore,
Blake Baxter,
Pantytec,
Spoonie Gee,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Basic Channel,
The Blackbyrds,
Soulsonic Force,
DJ Style,
Jimmy McGriff,
Robert Görl,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Neon Judgement,
Deakin,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Thompson Twins,
Sugar Minott,
La Düsseldorf,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Crispian St. Peters,
Panda Bear,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.